Yesterday Is History
by Ladidumm
Summary: There are two sides to every story, and insanity always has a trigger. Friends come from the most unlikely places, and betrayal is a crime many die for. Forgive but do not forget, because the more pieces you have the more likely you are to survive, Ciel.


**I do not own Kuroshitsuji.**

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>You swore."<strong>_

"_**I know."**_

"_**On your life."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**On their lives."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**You broke that oath."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**I've come to collect on that oath."**_

"_**I know."**_

"…_**I'm sorry."**_

"_**I know."**_

* * *

><p><em>It was the oddest thing<em>, Vincent couldn't help but think. That someone so beautiful as that woman would be in a place like this. It wasn't her beauty, per say, there had been other beautiful women here, but just the innocence and purity of her face. It was not the kind of face you'd expect to see here. _But then again, _Vincent thought wryly, _I know better than anyone how deceiving looks could be._

He himself did not look like he belonged there. He had a reputation as a philanthropist, and was overall seen as a kind, beautiful young man, with a smile everyone trusted. But it was simply a carefully constructed façade, hiding his true self as the Evil Nobleman.

This woman had white blonde hair with a slight blue tinge, pale skin, and striking violet eyes. Oddly enough, she wore trousers, and overall gender-neutral clothing. Her face held no expression as she moved to kneel in front of the leader of the cult. The cult itself was one posing as a legitimate new prayer group. People would go there because it promised absolute forgiveness for anyone, and more importantly, because it was a place to stay when no other would take you, with free clothes and food. For many, this was a place to go when there was nothing left. Criminals, prostitutes, beggars and those with just no hope left came here.

This woman, however, had none of the hopelessness in her eyes, even as she demurely lowered them. In fact, the only emotion he could translate was a quiet determination. People like that did not come to a place like this. The cult leader leered down at her, and something flashed in her eyes, something Vincent couldn't translate. He stiffened imperceptibly, because there was nothing Vincent could not translate. For a second, he wanted this woman to suffer, because she scared him. He quickly dismissed that thought and returned to his studying of the ritual taking place before him.

While at first glance this place seemed like a healthy, good place to be, it was the front for a human trafficking organization. They gathered people no one would miss, or who had already excused themselves from their own lives, and, few by few, they disappeared. It was all done under the guise of them moving to the main headquarters of the cult, when really it was slave traders who took them away. To them, a woman like this would be a rare treasure. Vincent knew he should feel pity for her, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. It was that flash of something unreadable in her eyes.

He did feel sad he would not be saving her, but his job was to infiltrate and deliver the information, and right now this was not a person he could save. He had neither the resources nor the manpower to help her. He resolved himself to watch as the woman was taken away. He had no doubt she would be 'chosen' to go to the 'headquarters' for 'special treatment'. If she resisted, then all the members of this audience, who were actually disguised slave traders, would knock her out and take her by force. She was the second last today, and they could afford to hurt him as well. All the others had already been 'judged', and been deemed worthy, meaning they were all in a different building already. This was a good thing to remember for Vincent, as it meant next time he could kill all the criminals in one fell swoop without harming any innocents.

"State your name, true believer," the leader spoke with a resounding voice, looking down at the woman. He raised one hand to hover just over her head, face partially obscured by a cowl.

"Angela Blanc," she said, still not looking up, performing her role better than all who had come before her. Vincent knew that it was useless, however. She would still be declared unclean, and still be forced to be 'purified' at the non-existent headquarters. Such a woman would not be allowed to leave under any circumstances.

"Angela Blanc, how long have you been a true believer?" the leader stared down at her, and Vincent could just see him tallying how much she would bring him.

"A mere week," the woman answered. The leader made a noise of consideration, and then began to hum, his hand vibrating above her head before suddenly gripping her skull hard enough that his knuckles went white. That had to be painful, and yet the woman did not wince, or show any sign she had felt it at all. Vincent felt the slight unease of her grow stronger, and could not help but be faintly glad she would be gone, before hitting himself mentally. Nevertheless, he prepared himself just in case something should go awry.

Finally, the cult leader stopped humming, and tossed her head backward with a sharp snap. Still, no expression appeared on her face, but her eyes were a different story. That determination was still there, but a slight hint of disgust was evident in her eyes if anyone bothered to really look.

"Yes!" declared the cult leader, "You are Unclean! You must go to the Headquarters to be purified! Rise!" The woman's head dropped back down to hang on her chest. She slowly began to rise. She stood, facing the leader as he stared at her, awaiting the customary response. Her hair fell forward to cover her eyes, and her mouth turned downward slightly.

"Unclean? Me? Don't make me laugh," she said. "I'm not going to touch you to kill you." Her oddly short hair shifted slightly, becoming a more masculine cut, and paled a bit, erasing the tinge of blue. "You're not worth it." Her voice deepened slightly. "I've kept up with this farce for long enough, it's time for Ash to take his turn." Curves disappeared, leaving a very slender but still definitely masculine figure.

"Wh-what are you?" the cult leader asked, stepping back, one hand raised in a hopeless gesture of protection. Everyone else was staring, horrified, at the man who had been a woman a mere few seconds ago. Vincent took the opportunity to find a nice corner to hide in. Something told him that things were not going to go to plan. He just hoped he could find a way to deal with it.

"Could you be any more cliché?" he heard the voice ask, followed by a sharp click that could only be a step. "I mean, how about trying anything more original than 'what are you'. Especially with the stutter." Another sharp step. " How about, 'what did you mean when you said that thing about killing you'." Another step. "That seems like a good question to me." Step. "Can't manage it?" Step. "I'll answer you anyway." Step. "I am going to kill all of you." Step. "You disgusting parody of a human being." Step. "May the Lord have mercy on your soul." Step. Pause. "Actually, I'd rather he didn't." A sickening squelch, and a thud.

Instantly, it was like a spell was broken, and screams echoed along with the swishing noises of sword being pulled from sheaths, and the click of a gun being cocked. Vincent's mind whirled as he thought over all the possibilities, trying to make sense of what was going on, because things like women turning into men just did not happen. It was… it was… it was simply fascinating. The possibilities! It brought a whole new meaning to the word hermaphrodite. He wondered whether they had different personalities as guns fired, and screams changed tone, becoming more hysterical, and being cut off within seconds. And underneath it all, a faint noise, the kind that occurs when something moves very very fast. Faster than a human ever could.

"Oh God!"

"What are you?"

"Why is this happening?"

"Spare me!"

"No!"

"Please!"

"Demon!"

A pause, as that final scream was not cut off. Heavy breathing, revealing that the last screamer was the only one left.

"No, not a demon. Far from it, actually."

A gunshot.

"Now that was just rude."

A scream cut off halfway.

Silence.

"You can come out now. I know you're not one of them. I won't hurt you."

Shit.

* * *

><p>Ash sighed as he turned to face the direction the human was hiding in. He lightly skimmed the mind again, revealing a basically pure but almost ridiculously tainted soul. Ash was surprised no demon had come around for it yet. It was rare that souls like that did not summon demons.<p>

There was a shuffle, and a man unfolded himself from the corner, which was, admittedly, a good hiding place in this lighting. If Ash had been human, he never would have noticed him. Ash waited semi-patiently for the customary disgust at a man having been a woman, and once he had calmed down, he would simply edit his cinematic record and make him forget this.

"You were a woman," the man's voice said, and Ash sighed mentally, plastering a smile on his face and marvelling that that was always a human's first reaction even after he had just killed everyone else in the room. Humans. You had to love them.

"Yes, I was," he answered, trying to look harmless, clasping both bloodied hands behind his back. He was hoping the human wouldn't notice that one bullet wound on his heart, but seeing as the man was most likely in a great deal of shock, it should be fine.

"But now you're a man," the human continued, an unreadable expression settling on his face. Ash blinked. He really was taking this quite well. Ash was beginning to wish that he spent more time on Earth actually deciphering facial expressions instead of simply reading the emotions. This man was apparently adept at hiding his emotions, and Ash did not want to pry any deeper than surface level.

"Yes, I am," he answered, watching his face closely, and, more importantly, waiting for the emotional shield to go down. He watched as the human began to open his mouth, and awaited a lie of some sort. One thing he knew was that this was the type of man to lie. Ah, well. He couldn't lie with his emotions.

"That is incredible! Do you share the same personality?" Ash sighed; it was as he expected. With a silent apology, he broke through the emotional wall slightly and felt what he really meant. Then he blinked again, and looked up in shock at the man, who was smiling with excitement. Although there was some apprehension, it was mainly directed at the deaths that had just occurred. Other than that, it was simply fascination and excitement.

"Excuse me? You don't find that odd at all?" he asked. Ash shifted slightly, withdrawing from the mind completely, not wanting to feel anything at all from this human anymore. He had to be insane, to not be freaked out by a woman becoming a man.

"Of course I do!" Instead of following it up with an assurance of truth, the human had just contradicted himself. Ash was confused.

"But, you're not disgusted?" Ash asked, bewildered.

"Of course not. It's interesting, and you never answered the question," the human smiled at him. Ash stared for a second, and then burst into laughter. "What's so funny?" the human asked, clearly a little put out.

"Nothing," Ash chuckled. "You're just the first being I've ever met to react like that. Everybody else is at least a little bit disgusted." It was true. Even the other angels had a bad first impression of Ash and Angela, and not all had the grace to attempt to hide it. This was most definitely an odd human. Now that Ash regarded him closely, his bearing was perfect, posture straight, and all his features were aristocratic. This was not a man who belonged to a cult. Maybe Ash wouldn't have to edit his cinematic record. It would be a true shame to deny this soul access to the Grim Reapers' records. "And yes, we do have different personalities. Very distinct ones, in fact. We're different people."

"That's amazing. So, how did you kill all of them? And why?" the man changed topics so quickly Ash was caught off guard, and a little bit impressed. This human was clever.

"Quite easily. They were much too far-gone to really muster an effort," Ash said.

"And yet there is a bloody bullet hole in your chest," the human said, and his eyes sharpened into something. Waves of pure cunning rolled off him, and for a second Ash felt fear, of a human. Which was simply ridiculous. He quashed it quickly then shoved into the folder of his mind labelled things that never happened, before shredding that. And setting it on fire for good measure. "You're not human, are you? And not just in the male female thing."

"You're right," Ash said, looking the human in the eye. "Aren't you scared?"

"No," the man smiled, "If you wanted to hurt me, I think I'd be dead."

"Why aren't you surprised?" Ash asked.

"I've known of the existence of supernatural creatures for awhile," the man shrugged. "I might even have met one of them. I think you're the first though. What you are, I don't know but I don't think that's important. I know you're not a demon, don't I?"

"How do you know of us? And why are you here?" Ash was quickly becoming confused. Unfortunately, he could also feel himself starting to like this human. And that was dangerous. Humans were weak creatures that would only betray you. You should love them, but always be wary of them, and try to avoid contact with them.

"I am one of the Evil Nobles, the Queen's Watchdog, and it was my mission to investigate this cult," the human said, and there was a slight resignation coming off him now. Normally, Ash wouldn't even have noticed it, but it was the kind of resignation he felt whenever he told someone that Angela and him were not in fact twins, just people who shared a body. He was expecting disgust or fear. Something bad. What he clearly was not expecting was the completely blank look from Ash, who had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He stared for a second, and then, much as Ash had earlier, burst into laughter. "You really aren't human, are you?"

"…Didn't I just say that?" Ash asked, staring.

"Alright, how do I put this…" the man said, pondering for a second, "Alright, I think I have it. Basically, I'm a nobleman, you do know what that is right?" At Ash's nod he continued, "But the Queen, you know who that is as well, right?" Ash nodded again, "she has problems with the underground," he got another blank look, "criminals. The place where criminals thrive is called the underground, because it's not seen by the majority of society, but is always working on, underneath it, hidden. Does that make sense?" Ash nodded yet again, feeling pathetically like a small child, "Well, that needs regulating too. For that, there are the Evil Noblemen, the Phantomhive Family. We have a rather bad reputation, I'm afraid. We take care of the Queen's dirty business. Does that make sense?" Ash considered for a few seconds then nodded. "Now that you know why I killed them, how about telling me why you killed them? And no avoiding the question either."

"I wasn't avoiding the question," Ash shrugged as he began to walk forward. "I merely had questions I wanted answered before I answered yours. As for the answer? Quite simply, I was visiting the human world when I heard about this. There are many cults like this, and while I find them disgusting, we don't see it as a real problem," he began to twirl his hand around on his wrist as he explained; a rather odd habit of his was a penchant for flamboyancy, "Humans will be human, and all that. But Angela and I enjoy Earth, and we were here, so we thought, why not?" he stops walking, having ended up only a few feet away from the human. Ash smiled at the man; he wasn't sure why, but humans always freaked out when they heard that.

"So…" the human said, that unreadable look settling on his face again and that wall sliding in front of his emotions. Ash had a bad feeling he did that every time he thought or processed information. "What you're saying is that you guys see humans as troublesome children?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Ash said, then paused, considering, "Actually, you're probably right. Why are we discussing this?"

"No reason," the human said, giving Ash the most pleasant smile yet. "I was just wondering what happened next. Do you kill me, out of boredom? Or because I do bad things?"

"Not at all," Ash said, raising his hands and tilting his head, "These people were polluting the name of Heaven in a particularly disgusting way. You admit what you are. You're actually a very intriguing human. Normally I'd simply edit your memories, but it would be too much of a shame to block your entry into the afterlife," Ash noticed the man's eyes widening, and his lips opened to begin a question, so Ash flicked up one finger sharply in front of his face, "No more questions tonight. I've already answered quite a few. So, I actually find myself at quite the loss with you. Any suggestions?"

"Why don't we be friends?" the human said without an ounce of hesitation or thought. Clearly the idea had been in his mind for a while. _How did I miss that?_ Ash thought even as his body moved of it's own accord.

"I'm sorry?" Ash asked, confused.

"Is that a problem?" the human asked, disarming smile still perched on his face. "I could always use a powerful ally, and I expect you would enjoy having someone you could spend time with. From your reasons for being here, I gather you don't have many," Ash frowned, feeling that there was a bad implication there somewhere, but unable to find it, "So, what do you say?" Ash thought about it.

"I don't trust you," he said finally, " and I have no reason to be your 'friend'. Angela, however, is willing to attempt to be friends with your wife. She wants to know what kind of person would marry you. But first, your name." the human blinked, thoughts obviously racing. Finally he came to a decision.

"I'd be happy for Angela to meet my wife," he said, "and maybe I could convince you to be allies at least. Alright, so my name is-

* * *

><p>-Vincent. Vincent Phantomhive," Vincent finished. His mind was reeling from all the information he had gathered. An angel? He could just imagine that kind of power working for him. Besides, Vincent would admit he could sympathize a bit with being disliked by anyone because of something he was born into. He was also glad the angel understood enough about human customs to know it was completely inappropriate for an unmarried woman to befriend a married man. Or maybe the female angel simply wanted nothing to do with him. That was, unfortunately, very plausible.<p>

"Well then, Vincent Phantomhive," the angel smiled, and began to shift. Eyes became rounder, more feminine, curves appeared, hair was tinged blue and shifted slightly, and a beautiful woman stood there. "How are we going to get back to your house?" the voice was higher now.

"I walked, actually," Vincent said. "I'd forgotten. I did not wish to appear suspicious, so I walked."

"Then we shall fly," the woman said, smiling at him. She walked outside and wings burst from her back, huge and feathered and real and white and beautiful and Vincent knew that she hadn't been lying. He was in the presence of an angel. She turned around to him and opened her arms. He realized what she wanted. There was no way he was doing that.

"Is there a different way?" he asked, eying her warily. "A more, I don't know, manly one?" She smiled, and then hooked one arm around his shoulder, the other around his legs, pulling him into a bridal carry. He protested, and felt the arms shift, becoming more masculine.

"Honestly," the now male angel sighed, "Could you be any more troublesome? Is this better?"

"Slightly," Vincent replied with a smile. "By the way, you have me at a disadvantage," the angel raised one eyebrow, "I don't know your name, but you know mine."

"My name is Ash," the angel replied with another sigh, "And that was Angela. Can we go now?" Vincent nodded with a smile, one of his best, running over the names. He could just imagine how powerful allies these two would be. He wanted them. Besides, he could always use more friends who knew him as him and not just the persona he put on.

All of his musing was cut short, however as suddenly they were in the air. They were flying. It was rather difficult to believe that this was even possible, but he could feel the air. They went higher and higher, climbing through the steady beats of an angel's wings. He could see feathers floating around; on an impulse he reached out and grasped one.

"Not yet," heard the angel murmur softly shaking his head and glancing at the feather. His face was serene, almost happy, and Vincent realized that all his earlier smiles and airs were just as fake as Vincent's own. The wind whipped around him, and Vincent idly understood why both male and female kept their hair short; he imagined it would get quite inconvenient long. The angel, Ash, glanced pointedly at the feather, and shook his head slightly with a gentle smile. Vincent didn't really understand, but he let go of the feather anyway, and tilted his head slightly to watch as it was carried away by the wind.

It dropped sharply down, he followed its passage and gasped. London lay spread beneath him. It was beautiful. The sun was just starting to set, bathing the city in gold and red. _People say London's not beautiful, _Vincent thought dizzily, _they've clearly never seen this. _He heard a quiet chuckle from Ash and shot the angel a suspicious glance, to which a clearly fake innocent smile was his response. He considered protesting about it, but then was again overtaken by the awe of actually flying, and decided to let it slip this time. He did, however, add a mental note that apparently angels could read minds.

All too soon London was gone and they were touching down on his estate. He was placed gently back on his feet, wings were retracted, and when he glanced away for a second, a male angel was replaced by a female one. Still, Vincent realized with a touch of panic, wearing trousers. He sighed.

"Well, Angela, was it?" he verified, a short nod from the angel assuring him he was correct, "We need to find you some feminine clothes before you can meet my wife. I don't know what it's like in Heaven, but on Earth, women wear skirts. Honestly, how did you miss that?" he may have kept on going, still trying to adjust himself to having just fulfilled every human's childhood dream of flying, but a soft giggle interrupted him. He turned, and Angela smiled apologetically. "Something funny?"

"Humans," she said, as if that explained everything. Perhaps, to her, it did. "Such odd customs. Yes, I was aware of that, but it would be rather awkward for Ash to wear a skirt, wouldn't it? Come, I doubt he'll come out until we leave, and I can always put on male clothes before changing. Now then, skirts was it?" she smiled, and made a gesture for him to lead on.

He obliged, and as he glanced back at the beautiful angel behind him, he sighed. This was the beginning of something, he could feel it. It would either lead to something amazing, or something tragic. He hoped it would be something amazing, but one could never be sure. Just in case, though, it would probably best for the angel, male and female, to be kept away from Ciel. He had a feeling they would freak out around a child anyway. Now, to find some clothes, and then his wife. Rachel was always complaining she had too few female friends anyway. She would adore Angela.

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>I'm not whole anymore."<strong>_

"_**I know."**_

"_**I can already feel my sanity slipping."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**I can't return home."**_

"_**I know."**_

"_**What is going to happen to me?"**_

"…_**I don't know."**_

"…_**I know."**_

"_**So why ask?"**_

"_**Because I wanted to be wrong."**_

* * *

><p><strong>Right. So, who saw that coming? Yeah, I know this is AU. Not in the actual storyline. This story will go AU for most of the second season.<strong>

**Personally, I like Ash a lot more than Angela. I couldn't help but notice that whenever they did or said something really crazy, the face shifted to Angela. So this story will be Ash-centric. **

**The characterization will be different from the Ash and Angela in the anime seeing as he's crazy. For it, I'm using the moments when they pretend to be human and sane, the moments in the Making of Kuroshitsuji II, some of their crazy moments, and that one bit from Ciel in Wonderland.**

**Please give this story a go. Reviews are always appreciated, as I could use a ton of help with this.**


End file.
